An unknown man woke up in a modest apartment, the early morning sun barely filtering through the curtains. He moved through his morning routine with mechanical precision—brushed his teeth, showered, dressed in an expensive suit that suggested authority and success.
Everything you'd expect from someone preparing for another day of work.
He stopped at a coffee shop on his way, ordering the same drink he always did, exchanging pleasantries with the barista who knew his face but not his name. Then he walked three blocks to an imposing building in the city's business district.
The sign above the entrance read: **HUNTER ASSOCIATION - HEADQUARTERS**
He passed through security with a nod, took the elevator to the top floor, and entered his office. The nameplate on his desk read "Chairman," but the way shadows fell across the room kept the rest obscured, his full name hidden in darkness.
A calendar on his desk showed the date: **September 15, 2026**
Ten days since Dylan Foster's assassination. Five days since Ronald Stone had won the presidency in a landslide victory, riding the wave of popular support that X's endorsement had created.
The Chairman glanced at his watch, noted the time, and began his work.
Throughout the day, Hunters entered his office one by one. Each interaction was brief and professional.
A woman in tactical gear reported on an ongoing mission to track a rogue adventurer in South America. Status: Target located, awaiting permission to engage.
A scarred man reported completion of a bounty—a criminal who'd stolen from the World Union. Body delivered. Payment requested.
A young Hunter, barely out of training, received his first solo assignment. His hands shook slightly as he accepted the file.
One after another, they came and went. The Chairman approved missions, assigned bounties, processed reports, maintained the vast machine that was the Hunter Association.
By evening, his watch read 19:47. Seven forty-seven PM.
The Chairman leaned back in his chair, exhausted from another day of managing an organization that operated in the shadows of legality. He pulled a white handkerchief from his pocket—folded in a precise rectangle—and placed it over his eyes, covering them completely.
A moment of rest. A brief respite from the stress.
Then he removed the handkerchief and returned to work.
The next file on his desk made him pause.
**MISSION: CAPTURE OR ELIMINATE - X AND ASSOCIATES**
The bounties were substantial:
- X: 1,000,000,000 Ecoins
- Laurel: 100,000,000 Ecoins
- Lily: 80,000,000 Ecoins (ALIVE ONLY)
- Ji-won: 50,000,000 Ecoins
- Beto: 50,000,000 Ecoins
- Itachi: 50,000,000 Ecoins
- Marvel: 50,000,000 Ecoins
- Nelson: 30,000,000 Ecoins
Previously, these had been assigned as individual missions—specific Hunters tasked with specific targets. Marvel had been assigned to Laurel before his own betrayal, for instance.
But the targets had proven too elusive. Too dangerous. Too well-coordinated.
The Chairman made a decision and stamped the file with a red seal: **PUBLIC MISSION - ALL RANKS AUTHORIZED**
This changed everything. Now any Hunter—from rookies looking to make a name for themselves to S-rank veterans seeking the massive payouts—could attempt to capture or kill these targets. It would create chaos, but it would also create pressure. Make it harder for X's group to move, to plan, to breathe.
He set the file aside and reached for the next one.
That's when he felt it.
Cold steel pressed against his back, separated from his skin by only the thin fabric of his dress shirt. A dagger, positioned with surgical precision, its tip resting against his spine.
The Chairman froze.
"Do as I say or you die," a voice said from behind him. Male, calm, professional. "First, deactivate the alarm system in this room. I know you have a silent panic button under your desk. Don't touch it. Disable the entire security system for this office."
The Chairman's mind raced. "Who—"
"It's not that I can't handle your backup," the voice continued. "The problem is time. I need you focused, not waiting for rescue. Disable the alarms. Now."
The Chairman carefully reached under his desk and entered a code on a hidden panel. A soft beep indicated the security system had been deactivated.
"Good. Now pick up the phone and call the Doctor."
The Chairman's blood ran cold. There was only one person this could be.
"Marvel," he said quietly.
"Surprised I got past your security?" Marvel's voice held a hint of dark amusement. "I worked here for three years. I know every blind spot, every shift change, every vulnerability in your system. Now call the Doctor."
"What do you want?"
"Call him. Tell him to discharge my sister. And tell him to give her Cardevrol."
The Chairman's grip tightened on his desk. "Cardevrol doesn't—"
"Don't lie to me." The dagger pressed slightly harder, drawing a drop of blood. "When I worked here, I did my research. I found the classified medical files. My sister's disease? It has a cure. It's always had a cure. But you and the World Union tell the world it's incurable because keeping people desperate for treatment means you can control them forever. Use them as leverage. Keep them in chains."
The Chairman was silent.
"Tell the Doctor to discharge my sister and leave her with the Cardevrol at the chair near the reception table. She walks out freely. No tricks. No trackers. No pursuit."
"And if I refuse?" the Chairman asked. "Kill me and your sister dies anyway. I know you can't do it. You'd rather die than let your sister die. So what makes you think I'd cooperate?"
Marvel's response was to place his free hand on the floor.
His palm passed through the solid surface as if it were water—Projection-stage Vitra, separating his physical form from one location and manifesting it in another.
When he pulled his hand back up, he wasn't alone.
He was holding a boy. Eight years old, still in his pajamas, eyes wide with confused terror.
Marvel removed the dagger from the Chairman's back and placed it against the boy's throat instead.
"Because people like you and I do this job even though we have the greatest of weaknesses," Marvel said coldly. "I'd rather die than let my sister die. And you'd rather die than let your son die. Make the call."
The Chairman's professional composure shattered.
"Please," he whispered. "He's just a child. He has nothing to do with this."
"Neither does my sister. Call the Doctor."
With shaking hands, the Chairman picked up his phone and dialed. When the Doctor answered, his voice was steady despite everything.
"This is the Chairman. Patient Stephanie—discharge her immediately. Provide her with a full course of Cardevrol. Leave her at the reception area. No pursuit, no tracking, no interference."
"Sir?" The Doctor sounded confused. "That's highly irregular—"
"Do it now. That's an order."
The Chairman ended the call and looked at Marvel. "It's done. Please. Return my son."
"Check the security feed. Confirm she's been discharged."
The Chairman pulled up the medical facility's cameras on his computer. They watched as Stephanie, Marvel's younger sister, was escorted to the reception area and given a medical bag. The staff stepped away, leaving her alone.
"Satisfied?" the Chairman asked desperately.
Marvel studied the feed carefully, then nodded. He threw the boy across the room—not gently, but not hard enough to cause serious injury.
The moment his son was free, the Chairman spun around, drawing a concealed weapon from his desk drawer.
But there was nothing there.
Just shadows.
The room was empty. Marvel was gone, vanished as if he'd never existed at all.
The Chairman immediately grabbed his phone, calling the Doctor again.
"Capture the girl! She's working with Marvel—she was bait! Don't let her leave the facility!"
By the time security reached the reception area, Stephanie was already running. A group of A-rank Hunters mobilized immediately, flooding the corridors and surrounding her position.
They closed in from all sides, weapons drawn, exits blocked.
Stephanie stopped, trapped, nowhere left to run.
The Hunters advanced—
And she vanished.
One moment she was there, surrounded and helpless. The next, she was simply gone, pulled through space by her brother's Projection ability.
The lead Hunter cursed and immediately reported back to the Chairman.
"She's gone, sir. Marvel extracted her somehow."
"There's a tracking device," the Chairman said, his voice cold with fury. "Inside her body. Surgically implanted two years ago when we first started treating her. It's designed to be irremovable—if anyone tries to take it out, it will release a toxin that stops her heart."
"Should we activate the tracker?"
"Already done. Send all available A-rank and S-rank Hunters. I want them both dead."
Within an hour, updated wanted posters appeared across every Hunter Association board:
**Marvel - 800,000,000 Ecoins**
*Wanted for: Treason, Kidnapping, Assault, Theft of Classified Information*
*EXTREMELY DANGEROUS - S-RANK THREAT*
**Stephanie - 5,000,000 Ecoins**
*Wanted for: Conspiracy, Aiding a Fugitive*
*Approach with caution*
Marvel's bounty had jumped from fifty million to eight hundred million—far surpassing even Laurel's hundred million. He was now the second most wanted person in the world, behind only X.
The reason was explicit in the wanted poster: **Knowledge of Secrets Hidden from Society and Betrayal of the Hunter Association**
For the next month, Marvel and Stephanie ran.
They never stayed in one place for more than a few hours. They slept in shifts, always ready to move. The tracking device inside Stephanie meant they could never truly hide—Hunters would find them eventually, often in the middle of the night.
The attacks came randomly, relentlessly. A-rank Hunters in abandoned buildings. S-rank specialists in crowded marketplaces. Ambushes during supply runs. Sniper fire from rooftops.
Marvel fought them all.
His Projection ability made him nearly impossible to pin down, but the constant combat was exhausting. He had to protect Stephanie while fighting multiple skilled opponents, often simultaneously. And the Cardevrol, while effective, took time to work. For the first two weeks, Stephanie was still weak, still coughing blood, barely able to run.
But gradually, the medicine did its job. Her strength returned. Her coughing stopped. The color came back to her face.
By the time they reached La Vendetta a month later—October 15th—Stephanie looked healthy. Not fully recovered, but strong enough that a casual observer wouldn't notice anything wrong.
La Vendetta was unlike any other city in the world.
Built in a territory that no government officially recognized, it existed in a legal gray zone where laws simply didn't apply. The black market capital, where anything could be bought or sold if you had the money and knew where to look.
Fugitives from every nation lived here openly. Criminals, revolutionaries, exiles, and those who simply wanted to disappear. The city had its own rules, its own power structures, but no formal government.
Perfect for people like Marvel and Stephanie.
They arrived exhausted, constantly looking over their shoulders despite knowing that Hunters rarely operated in La Vendetta—doing so was considered a declaration of war against the city's criminal syndicates.
On their first day there, walking through a crowded marketplace, they got extraordinarily lucky.
Beto was shopping for groceries.
The large man was unmistakable even in civilian clothes, and he wasn't wearing any disguise. Why would he? La Vendetta didn't care about bounties issued by outside governments.
"Beto!" Marvel called out.
Beto turned, recognized him, and smiled. "Marvel. Heard you made quite an exit from the Hunter Association. Eight hundred million bounty? Impressive."
"Is there somewhere we can talk?" Marvel asked, glancing at Stephanie who looked ready to collapse despite her improved health.
"Follow me."
Beto led them through winding streets to a modest hotel in the entertainment district. Not too expensive, not too cheap—perfectly anonymous.
"Room 4B," Beto said, leading them upstairs. "I'm sharing with Ji-won. Itachi has his own room down the hall."
He opened the door to reveal a simple but clean space. A beds, a small bathroom, a window overlooking the street.
Ji-won was there, sitting cross-legged on the bed while sharpening the enchanted katana. She looked up as they entered, her expression neutral.
"This is Marvel and his sister Stephanie," Beto introduced. "They need help."
"The tracking device," Marvel explained without preamble. "It's inside her body. Designed to be irremovable—if we try to take it out, it releases a toxin that stops her heart. But as long as it's in there, Hunters can find us anywhere."
Ji-won stood and moved to the door. "Itachi!"
A moment later, Itachi appeared from the room down the hall. He took one look at the situation and understood immediately.
"Lay her down on the bed," he ordered.
Stephanie, frightened but trusting, complied. Itachi knelt beside her, his hands beginning to glow with concentrated vital energy.
"This is going to hurt," he warned. "Don't move."
His fingernails extended and sharpened, transforming into claws through pure Vitra enhancement. With surgical precision, he cut into Stephanie's neck, his enhanced senses guiding him to the exact location of the tracking device.
Stephanie screamed, but Marvel held her steady.
Itachi pulled out the device—a small metallic object no bigger than a pill, already starting to release its toxin as its internal sensors detected removal.
Without a word, Itachi left the room with the tracker, moving to dispose of it somewhere far from the hotel.
The moment Itachi was gone, Beto stepped forward. His hands glowed differently than Itachi's had—warmer, somehow more alive.
He placed them over Stephanie's neck wound, and Marvel watched in awe as his sister's flesh began to knit back together. Vital energy converting directly into cells, regenerating tissue faster than should be possible.
Within two minutes, the wound was gone. Not even a scar remained.
Stephanie sat up, touching her neck in amazement. "It doesn't hurt anymore."
"You're safe now," Beto told her. "No more tracking device. No more Hunters finding you in the middle of the night."
Marvel felt something break inside him—the tension he'd been carrying for a month, the constant fear, the exhaustion. His sister was safe. Finally, truly safe.
"Thank you," he said quietly.
"Get a room for yourselves," Ji-won said, her tone making it clear this wasn't a suggestion. "We'll talk more tomorrow."
Marvel nodded and left with Stephanie to secure their own room. The hotel had plenty of vacancies—most fugitives in La Vendetta preferred to keep moving rather than stay in one place too long.
When they were alone, Ji-won turned to Beto. "October 20th now. Eleven days until the auction."
"We wait," Beto replied. "Just like X ordered."
**October 20, 2026**
Itachi, Beto, and Ji-won had been in La Vendetta for over a month now, living quietly, gathering information, waiting for the perfect opportunity.
The drug they'd been sent to acquire—the vital energy enhancement drug inspired by the four enchanted swords—was rare. Incredibly rare. Only a handful existed in the world, and they were never sold openly.
But La Vendetta had something that made such transactions possible: The Black Market Auction.
Once a month, on the night of the new moon, the city's most powerful criminal syndicates gathered to auction off items too valuable or too illegal to be sold anywhere else. Stolen artifacts, classified weapons, experimental drugs, information that could topple governments.
The vital energy drug would be auctioned on **October 31st**—eleven days from now.
"We'll need a lot of money," Itachi said, reviewing the intelligence they'd gathered. "These auctions attract buyers from all over the world. The competition will be fierce."
"Lee, Luis, and Pablo have been funneling funds," Beto confirmed. "We should have enough."
"Should isn't good enough," Ji-won said. "We need to be certain. If we lose the auction, we lose our advantage against the remaining cult members."
"Then we make sure we don't lose," Itachi replied simply.
The three of them settled in to wait, knowing that in eleven days, they would be competing against some of the most dangerous and wealthy criminals in the world for a drug that could change the balance of power in their war against the sins.